


I'll Be Worth Your Time

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Kent is good with kids, M/M, Permanent Injury, established Zimbits, retired Kent, single dad Alexei
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:11:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8812816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kent doesn't know what he wants outside of hockey, but he does know he's always wanted a family.  He just isn't sure he'd be any good at it, but Alexei Mashkov thinks otherwise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my Fic Fest prompts, this one by potrix-the-queerschlaeger who wanted retired Kent with single dad/divorced Alexei. Kent is floundering after hockey, and basically gets adopted by Alexei's two kids.
> 
> I went a little off prompt, but I hope you like it anyway <3
> 
> No real warnings for this fic apart from Kent's anxiety over being a parent, and a little self deprecation.

Kent stared at the post, and he did everything in his power to make himself believe it wasn’t directed at him. He and James had been split up for years now. They hadn’t spoken in...months? Longer? Long enough Kent didn’t remember anymore.

He had been starting to forget the little things. What James sounded like first thing in the morning, what his detergent smelt like, which side of his lip quirked up when Kent chirped him.

It was for the best.

They wanted different things.

Kent thought they wanted different things.

That’s what James had told him.

That’s what Kent had agreed to.

So why was he staring at a photo of James and his new wife, an infant nestled between the pair of them with her chin and his nose, and his jersey in a size they shouldn’t make that small, with his number.

It shouldn’t hurt this bad.

But the caption.

When it’s right, it’s right. Family <3

It wasn’t a dig at him. Couldn’t be. He hadn’t been that bad. He hadn’t been...

His fingers were swiping through his screen, opening twitter, opening his DMs without his permission.

@realkvp - Zimms, if we’d had a kid, do you think I would have fucked it up?

Kent threw his phone across the sofa, watching it hit the cushion and slide down. It rested against his outstretched ankle and he tried to tell himself he wasn’t feeling for the vibrate. He didn’t need validation. He was happy, he’d gotten therapy, Jack didn’t hate him anymore, he’d been...he was moving on.

Not all relationships was going to end in disaster and tears.

Fuck.

When his phone buzzed, he lunged for it and stopped pretending he wasn’t desperate. He swiped open his messages and stared at Jack’s.

@jayzimms -Kenny, where is this coming from?

@realkvp - it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, I’m being a fucking idiot.

@jayzimms - Kenny.

Kent stared at the messages and sighed. And he tried not to hear James’ voice in his head but as long as it had been, he couldn’t forget the tone when the guy had said, “Look Kent, you want a family and that’s just not for me. I don’t think we’d be any good at this together.”

“You mean you don’t think I’d be any good at this,” Kent had bit back. Things had been tense for a while now. A long while.

“...you have issues to work through, and so do I. But I don’t want a family, Kent. It’s never been in my plan. So just...I don’t want to keep denying you, and I don’t want you to be with me and resent me.”

Kent had sighed, and pushed his palms into his eyes and shuddered. “It’s me.”

“It isn’t you. I swear to god, Kent. It’s not you.”

But apparently...it had been. At least a little.

When it’s right, it’s right.

Kent took a screen cap of the instagram post, then attached it to the message to Jack.

@jayzimms - is that...?

@realkvp - James? Yea, yep. That’s him. And his wife. And new baby.

@jayzimms - did you know?

@realkvp - I don’t think I’d be having an existential crisis right now if I had, Zimms. He told me it wasn’t me. He didn’t want a family because it was him. But hey, when it’s right, it’s right? Ida fucked up a kid anyway.

@jayzimms- we didn’t work for a lot of reasons, Kenny, but I have never doubted that you’ll be a good father some day. It’ll happen.

@realkvp - I’ve got Kit. That’s enough.

@jayzimms- check your email. I just sent you tickets. Get away for a while, okay?

@realkvp- that’s some fucking nerve you’ve got there, Jacky-boy.

@jayzimms- Bittle will bring pie when he picks you up.

@realkvp- that’s more fucking like it. See you tomorrow.

*** 

The flight was the flight. It was uneventful like almost every flight to Providence he’d ever made, and Jack was true to his word. Stood at the end of security was Eric Bittle looking dapper as fuck--as he always did--with a small tupperware box full of cherry pie, and his other arm out to grab Kent into a hug.

“Your ex is a shithead, and I don’t mind sayin’ that about someone I never met. I’m sorry, Kent. After everything else—your injury and havin’ to retire, you didn’t need that. You’re worth ten’a him.”

In that moment, Kent had never been more profoundly grateful that Jack Zimmermann had moved on, and found a guy like Bits.

They chatted on the way back to Jack and Eric’s, Kent showing off his latest Kit pictures that Bitty had already seen on twitter, though he exclaimed over them as though they were brand new.

“Next time we’re comin’ out so I can cuddle that sweet princess all on my own. The most Jack will let us have right now is a darn fish.”

“Yeah well, I get the fucked schedule. I’d feel worse if Kit weren’t my literal child, and if I didn’t have the best fucking cat-sitter on the planet.” Kent missed Kit then, but he was happy to step away, to not feel compelled to lose himself in his twitter or Instagram feed and keep going back to that photo. Or the new ones James had uploaded because when it was right, it was right, and he seemed damn proud to be a dad.

“You’re gonna be an amazing father one day, Kenny,” Bitty breathed quietly. “I have no doubt.”

It was easier to believe here, surrounded by people who loved him, than it was when he was alone in his apartment, filled with the ghosts of relationships past.

*** 

Kent was already up when Bitty rose, and the shorter man looked profoundly grateful for the already-hot pot of coffee. “Caught Zimms before he was out the door. Game tonight?”

Bitty shrugged as he added a spoonful of sugar into his coffee. “Yeah. I don’t normally go but if you want to…”

“Who’s it tonight?”

“Islanders,” Bitty said, and sipped the coffee.

Kent pulled a face. “Fuck them. Where are you off to?”

“Skate lessons,” Bitty said. “You can tag along if you want. If your knee is up for it.”

Kent glanced down at his knee brace and sighed. “Yeah. I mean, what the hell, right? Ex NHL star is only a step below when Jack shows up.”

Bitty looked at him, then shook his head. “You know you’re more than that. Anyway go get dressed. It’s not freezing out, but we skate at the outdoor rink.”

Kent pulled a face, but decided what better way to torture himself more about the whole kid thing than to surround himself with them for the next two hours.

***

The rink was already full of kids and parents when Bitty and Kent arrived. The assistant coaches were getting them lined up, in what looked like order of size and age. Bitty and Kent dragged themselves to the benches, and Bitty began to quickly lace up.

“Look, why don’t you take the tiny tots? It’ll be easier on your knee. Most of them have those little skate trainers so you won’t have to bend a lot.”

Kent looked over at a blonde woman who was helping a kid no older than three, grip a red skate trainer. Kent hadn’t ever used one of those, and he had vague memories of being four years old and falling on his ass over and over until he just…stopped falling, and started gliding.

They were cute though, and his heart was beating a little fast as he took to the ice and skated over. “Hey,” he said to the woman, “I’m Kent. Fake teacher for the day.”

Her brown eyes were wide and laughing. “I’m Chris, and uh, I know who you are. I just can’t believe Bitty talked you into spending your day with a bunch of toddlers.”

“Hey man, toddlers are fucking great,” Kent said, then flushed. “Shit. I mean…oh god this is…this isn’t gonna work for me.”

She laughed. “It’s fine, man. Half of them have hockey dads so I think they’re used to it. Anyway, you can take that group.” She pointed to three small skaters who looked three or four years old. Only one of them didn’t have the skate trainer, and she had her arms crossed, giving the girl next to her a sour look. “That’s Klara. She’s sort of appointed herself leader.”

Kent’s eyes widened, and he heard the warning in the woman’s voice. This was…gonna be fun. Maybe the universe was just trying to put the idea of kids out of his head or something. He skated over, and stopped in front of them.

“Hey uh. I’m Kent. You can call me uh…” He glanced back at Chris who mouthed, ‘Mister Kent,’ at him. “You can call me Mr Kenny.”

Klara gave him an unimpressed look. “No,” she said, crossing her arms. “Want Bitty. Where’d Bitty go? He’s my best friend.”

Kent glanced across the ice to where Bitty was instructing a group of kids who looked closer to ten or eleven, and he sighed with jealousy. But it looked like they were doing a few twirls, which even if Kent knew how the fuck to do those, his knee wouldn’t come close to letting him. “Well I guess he’s gonna be helping those kids today so you get me.”

After that, it wasn’t as bad as Kent thought. Klara put up a fight, but Jacob and Milla were much more mild, and he was able to get both of them to try a few laps without the trainers. Klara was a natural, and was skating rings round them, though as soon as she warmed to Kent a little, she barely left his side.

“Pick me up,” she said as they were heading toward their lunch break.

Kent stared down at her, and she lifted her arms, making grabby hands at him. “Um. I’m not sure if I should like…do that.”

Her bottom lip stuck out and her brown eyes went wide. “I want a hug. Up. Up!”

And Kent realised he was fucked because this kid had puppy-eyes to match any kicked puppy on the planet, and he wondered how fucked her parents were, too. His hands went down, and he lifted her up. Her skates dug uncomfortably into his hip, but she put her face near his neck and sighed.

“Tired.”

“Uh. I think we’re gonna break for lunch,” Kent said, holding tight and skating up to Chris. “Right? Like…lunch?”

Just then, Bitty blew a whistle, and everyone froze. “Okay go collect your bags. Your lunches are with Mr Brian over there. I’d like to see a new pie winner today, and I roasted your broccoli extra yummy so I know you can do it!”

Kent turned to Chris. “Uh what was that, now?”

Chris laughed. “Bitty caters the lessons, and the kid who eats the most of their veggies gets a mini-pie. I mean, all the kids get cookies, but the pies are incentive. There are only a few who can’t be convinced to eat their veg,” and she gave a pointed look to Klara who was still clinging to Kent like a tiny koala.

He bounced her on his hip. “You?” he asked with an exaggerated tone. “You don’t eat your veg.”

“No!” she said, and kicked at him. “Yuck.”

Kent bounced her again until she giggled. “I bet you could try. Because I know for a fact how yummy Mr Bitty’s pies are. You have to try one.”

Klara sighed. “No.”

Kent ignored her, and skated to the edge of the rink, letting her slip down to remove her skates. The kids’ routines, it seemed, was to get their lunches and sit on the grass on pre-arranged blankets by age. Klara, however, grabbed Kent’s hand, Kent just barely out of his skates and still barefoot, and dragged him to the lunch table where Bitty was now stood.

Bitty looked at Klara, then smiled broadly at Kent. “I see you found a new shadow.”

“He could be my best friend,” Klara said, and grabbed her lunch.

Bitty lifted a brow. “Wanna show your best friend how you can eat all your veg.”

“No!” she said forcefully, then instead of heading to where the smaller kids were, she headed to a blanket near a tree where an older girl was sat alone. Klara popped down, then dragged Kent with her.

“Um. Hey,” Kent said.

The girl lifted a brow at him and stared. “I know you. You’re Jack’s friend.”

Kent blinked. “Uh.”

“Klara’s my sister. We go home with Bitty after lessons and our dad picks us up. I’m Nina.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, and cool that you get to hang out with Jack and Bits,” Kent said, and when he realised Klara wasn’t touching her lunch, he sighed and opened the bag for her. Inside was a sandwich, a cheese stick, a small container of what looked like roasted broccoli, and a cookie. He set everything out in front of her, and gave her a pointed look. “I bet if you tried the broccoli, you’d like them. Then you get pie.”

Nina shook her head. “Bitty lets us have pie like…every day. Nothing works. She just hates things that are green and good for you.”

Kent cocked his head to the side. “You know I don’t love them either, but sometimes I eat them because they’re good for me.”

Klara kicked her foot out and hit Kent in the calf. “No.”

“What if,” Kent said, tapping his chin as she began to tear the crust off her sandwich. “What if you had to eat them to rescue the rest of your lunch.”

Klara’s brows furrowed. “Um.”

Kent grabbed the container of broccoli and lifted the lid. It actually had a nice smell, fragrant and spiced. He took her sandwich, then the cookie, then set up all the broccoli around it. “The rest of your lunch is trapped by an evil broccoli forest. If you—the giant—eat all the trees, you save the rest of your lunch.”

She gave him a pointed look, which was terrifying to see on the face of a three year old. “No.”

“How about like…one tree?” Kent wheedled. “If you eat a tree, I’ll eat a tree.”

She cocked her head to the side, her expression cold and calculating. “Could you skate me later?”

“Uh.”

“She wants you to carry her and skate fast,” Nina clarified.

Kent shrugged. “If that’s not like, against the rules or whatever, fine. If you eat one tree, I’ll give you one lap around the rink.”

“Four,” she said.

“Then eat four trees,” Kent replied back.

They locked gazes, a battle of wills. Then her mouth turned down in determination, and she reached out, never breaking his gaze, and ate one piece of broccoli. Then another. And she kept going until they were gone, never looking away.

“Jesus I think I just got mind-fuh…Uh,” Kent stopped himself. “Dude you are one scary kid.”

Nina nodded. “She’s the boss at home.”

Kent let out a tiny oomph as Klara shoved herself into Kent’s lap, then went for the cookie instead of the sandwich, but he decided to call it a win. Bitty joined them a few minutes later, and his eyes went wide.

“Did she actually eat the broccoli?”

“Yeah,” Nina said as she settled against Bitty’s side. “But now Kent has to skate her.”

Bitty sighed and rolled his eyes. “We don’t let her do that. She never wants to skate on her own.”

Kent shrugged. “Don’t I get like…points or something? For making her eat?”

Bitty stared, unimpressed at the nearly untouched lunch, and shook his head. “No. And no pie for you.”

Nina laughed as Kent put his hand to his heart. “This is unsportsmanlike.”

Klara nuzzled him as she chewed on her cookie. “Is okay, I could share mine later. It’s um…Bitty could it be blueberry?”

Bitty smiled at the sight of Klara clinging to the other man, and his face softened. “Yeah, kiddo. That’s fine.”

***

Kent did have to skate Klara around for the last hour, but he found it wasn’t so bad. His knee was aching a bit from the weight, but she was a small thing, and his heart was fit to burst at the sight of her with her head on his shoulder, thumb in her mouth.

The other kids didn’t seem to mind much either, and as the last hour came to a close, they were all goofing around anyway, and not paying attention.

Bitty had them all dressed down, and the area cleaned up by the time parents arrived. Nina and Klara were last, and Bitty came up, staring at Klara who still hadn’t let go of Kent. “Well, they ride with us so you can get her into her seat.”

Kent had no idea what the hell he was doing, but Bitty’s half-chirps, half-instructions helped him get her sorted into the back seat, and soon enough they were headed back to Bitty and Jack’s.

“So they come with you every day?”

“Mondays and Wednesdays,” Bitty said. “It’s easier that way.”

Kent frowned, but didn’t want to pry into the persona lives of Bitty’s student’s parents, so he said nothing as they pulled up. The girls were excited then, and Nina was prattling on about using Jack’s trampoline, and Klara was saying something about a Princess Sophia, and they tore out of the car, right for the door just as Bitty got the car into park.

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of Bitty serving pies and the girls dashing round the place like they owned it. It was strange for Kent to think about them here—because it meant thinking about Jack with small children and being fatherly, and even though it was making him think about missed opportunities and things he had been denied for so long, it also felt strangely comforting to know Jack had this.

Unfortunately the day had worn hard on Kent’s knee, and it was throbbing, swollen under his brace. He laid out sideways on the sofa, his leg propped up on a few cushions, and Bitty brought him an ice pack and a warmed piece of peach pie as Klara settled into Princess Sophia.

Which apparently was a cartoon. That she knew all the words and all the songs to.

It would have been annoying if she hadn’t been so adorable, really. Halfway through the second episode, she crawled up next to Kent and settled in, her thumb in her mouth, her other hand twisting a curl round her fingers.

“Tired?” Kent asked.

She blinked at him with her big, brown eyes, then nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, and within seconds, she was asleep.

Bitty stared, then laughed. “Cute.”

“I’d like to know how kids do this,” Kent said, tucking her close and feeling sleepy himself. “Like imagine the cure for insomnia locked inside the small child with the ability to fall asleep in literal seconds.”

“I hear they don’t sleep so well at night,” Bitty said with a shrug.

Kent laughed. “Yeah. I guess that’s why they’re so damn cute. So when you’re sleep deprived and ready to die, their cute little smiles keep you going.”

“Keep you going,” Bitty said. “I’m still not sold on the whole, kids of our own thing. I like when I can give them back at the end of the day.”

Kent raised a brow. “And Jack?”

“Too content with his career and with me to worry about it just yet,” Bitty answered with honesty.

Kent could definitely appreciate that about him—the way Bitty was honest and pragmatic, and the way he was so casual about communication.

It was one of the ways Kent had gone so wrong for so many years. He was working on it though. He really was.

The show kept playing, and Kent’s eyes got heavier, and lulled to sleep by the rhythmic breathing of the small toddler, he drifted off.

 

***

 

He woke sometime later—years, minutes, months, he had no idea—by the sound of the door opening and closing, and Jack’s voice greeting Bitty. There was a second voice, too quiet for Kent to make anything out, but then he heard his name in a very distinct accent.

“Kent Parson?”

Kent almost shot straight up, but his sleep-addled brain was able to remind him quick enough the solid lump in his arms was a child that should not be flung across the room. Klara was still out, and Kent was pinned to the cushions by small limbs octopussed round his torso.

He blinked at the hulking figure of Mashkov who was staring at Kent with a raised brow. “Uh. She’s not mine,” Kent said. “She’s some kid in Bitty’s skating class.”

Mashkov laughed. “I know. She…” His words died out and were replaced by a huge smile when Nina came tearing out from the back room, arms out.

“Papa,” she said, and flung herself at Alexei.

That’s when Kent had his first heart attack.

He recovered enough to wriggle up, earning a small noise from Klara, who steadfastly remained asleep, and he stared. “Holy sh—I uh. Are they…”

“Is my girls,” Alexei said, dropping Nina back to the ground after ruffling her hair. “Klara is asleep long time?”

Kent stared down at her. “I don’t know. Sh—er. I uh. Don’t know how long we were asleep.” He felt like biting his tongue off just to break his swearing habit, because he was going to slip up in front of Mashkov’s kids, then the giant d-man was going to pummel him into the ground. “I kind of dozed off.”

“She like that a lot. Put me to sleep all the time. Here I take…” Alexei stared to move her away from Kent’s arms, which suddenly felt very cold and very empty. The tiny girl woke, her eyes blinking first up at Mashkov, then at Kent, then she began to wail and reach her arms for Kent, crying out in sudden Russian which startled Kent since he hadn’t heard her speak it all day.

Mashkov blushed and murmured to her until she calmed, though she still had one hand out toward Kent.

“Uh.” Kent rose, letting her fingers curl round one of his. “Hey kid, it’s okay. I’ll like…see you at skating and stuff? And I’m gonna be here for a while.”

That seemed to mollify the little girl enough, and she settled back against Alexei after giving Kent’s finger one last squeeze. Kent realised how strange it was after Alexei took a few steps back. It wasn’t that he and Alexei had any bad blood between them. Playing opposite teams for years meant they were rivals on the ice, but Kent had spent most of his time in the NHL making sure he didn’t have bad blood with anyone.

But he didn’t really know the guy, and shit, he had just spent the entire day cuddling the dude’s kid. And like…he hadn’t even realised Mashkov was a parent.

Luckily Kent was spared his existential crisis when Mashkov left with the girls in tow. Kent slid off the sofa, his entire body stiff, his knee protesting loudly, but he found Jack and Bitty in the kitchen, plating up dinner, and he slid into a chair at the table as Bitty put chicken and veg in front of him.

“So uh. Those were Mashkov’s kids.”

Bitty lifted a brow as he took his seat next to Jack. “Yes?” he said, making it sound almost like a question.

Kent pointed his fork at Bitty. “I didn’t even know he was married.”

“He isn’t,” Jack said mildly. “Divorced.”

Kent internally sighed and he was struck with the weirdest thought, _Why are all the cute ones always straight?_ Which, where the fuck did _that_ come from? Because oh my god he did not need to be thinking of Alexei Mashkov like that. And he most certainly hadn’t ever thought that before.

Or well, maybe he’d thought Mashkov was a little hot when he was able to lift Kent out of a scrum with one hand—but sue him. He had a thing for dark-haired giants with massive upper body strength. That didn’t mean he was into Mashkov.

“Uh. Right. Um. Okay. Well his kids are cute.”

Bitty shared a look at Jack, then gave Kent a pointed smile. “Yeah. We think so too.”

 

*** 

 

Kent was at the drop-off during the next skate, and Alexei hung back a little awkwardly as he watched Nina and Klara rush over to the other teachers who were helping the kids lace into their skates. Kent hadn’t put his on today—his knee was putting him out of commission, so he volunteered to be on lunch duty and whatever else Bitty needed.

He saw Mashkov catch his eye, and he walked over, leaning heavily on his cane. “Hey,” he said, then mentally smacked himself for it because hey? Hey? That’s what he had. “Uh. Nice morning.” Jesus he was…it was no wonder he was single, really.

Alexei gave him a small, if not slightly chirpy smile, and nodded. “Is good. Girls happy not have to wear such big coats.” He nodded to where Klara was sliding onto the ice, her balance better than kids more than double her size.

“She’s a natural.”

“She is…being born with skates, her mama say,” Alexei said, and laughed.

Kent rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Uh. Yeah. Sorry uh…about the divorce? I didn’t even know you were married.”

Alexei shrugged. “Is okay. I’m think it wasn’t going to work. But Nina is born and we try. Then we think, probably divorce, but she is pregnant again. So we wait, but nothing helps. We are…being friends now.”

“So you like share custody or whatever?”

Alexei nodded. “She is working film. Director,” he clarified when Kent’s eyebrows shot up. “Australia for two month. So I have girls, Bitty help with things when I have games. Is okay, they are happy.”

“They’re cute as hell,” Kent said, without really thinking, then blushed, but Alexei looked pretty happy with his compliment. “Seriously she was kind of like a koala yesterday. Didn’t like to be put down.”

“She like you a lot,” Alexei said with a tone Kent couldn’t read. “She want have you over for dinner. I say I ask.”

“Like I could tell that face no,” Kent said, and they both looked over where her tiny face was pinched, brows furrowed, as she chirped a fellow toddler to the grave. Kent couldn’t help a startled laugh and he shook his head. “Just let me know, man. I’ll be here a while.”

Alexei nodded, then waved to Jack who was heading for the car. “I’m have skate. See you after?”

“Yep,” Kent said, and totally didn’t watch Alexei walk away.

***

The day’s skate was a lot like the previous, though Klara was forced to contend with the other teachers since Kent was out. But she sat on his lap when lunch came, and even ate some of the mixed veg Bitty packed for everyone—though not enough to win the pie.

Nina sat nearby, prattling on about her classmates, and about the last time Alexei showed up to a PTA meeting. “He was so embarrassing. Some boy was teasing me and he went there and brought it up in front of everyone. He’s the worst.”

Kent laughed, thinking that maybe she was wrong, and that she’d probably appreciate one day her father giving so much of a shit that he would say fuck it about his status as a celebrity, and show up at a school to fight for his daughter’s honour.

Back at Bitty and Jack’s, Kent spent most of the day with his leg up, and Klara had moved on to some equally horrifying show called something Stuffins about some kid vet—and it made him miss Kit enough to pull out his phone and open his gallery.

“Kitty,” Klara said, poking her small nose over his phone screen.

“Yeah, that’s Kit. She’s my princess.”

“She not haff a crown,” Klara said. “She could if she’s a princess.”

“Well maybe we’ll have to find her one,” Kent said, and smiled at the image of his cat wearing one, even if he knew that would be his death sentence.

He was silent a little while, until he felt a tiny finger poke through one of the holes on his knee brace, and a small voice ask, “You haff a owie?”

Kent stared at where her chubby finger was prodding him, then at her curious face and it was profound, right then, how much of Alexei he could see in her. “Uh. Yeah. I got hurt playing hockey.”

“Like papa?”

“Yeah, only he’s more careful than I am, I bet,” Kent said, and smiled when she pressed a kiss to the brace.

“It’s better now?”

Kent’s face bloomed hot and he felt a rush of hatred for James—the bastard—because he could’ve had this and he would have been so fucking good at it. Fuck him so much. “Yeah kid. It’s better now.”

“Okay,” she said, and laid back down, to nap until Alexei arrived.

***

Kent ended up getting himself an invite to the Mashkov’s that weekend, and Bitty handed his keys over to Kent with a smile and a quick, “Have fun,” that was laced with so much innuendo, Kent almost cancelled.

But Alexei wasn’t doing much more than being nice to him, really. Kent wasn’t stupid enough to think otherwise. Kent didn’t want to assume about his sexuality, but he felt comfortable assuming whatever Alexei felt for him was purely platonic. His kids liked him. That was the short of it.

He arrived a little early, but he could see Nina’s face in the window looking excited, and she threw open the door as he headed up the three steps to the porch. “You came! We’re making spaghetti,” she said, grabbing his hand and hauling him inside.

The house was small and cosy, mismatched furniture in the living room, a large TV hanging on the walls, toys nearly everywhere, though in a way it looked like ordered chaos. There were photos on every wall, and a handful of places where it looked like random drawings were being hung by pushpins which Kent could only assume was the work of one of the girls.

“Klara hates spaghetti but it’s the only thing papa can make real good.” She yanked Kent through the small hallway, through a door, and into a large kitchen.

Alexei was at the stove, humming to himself as he stirred a pot of sauce, and he turned his head with a grin when Kent walked in. “Kenny, you find it okay?”

Kent nodded, feeling a little awkward when Nina let his hand go and ran off. “Uh. Yeah no worries. GPS is magical.”

Alexei laughed. “I’m here many years, still use it.” He put the lid on the pot, then turned. “Is okay? Pasta? My cooking skills…” He said something in Russian Kent was pretty sure was, ‘not good’, and shrugged.

“I heard Klara’s going to protest.”

“She in her room angry,” Alexei said. “She wanting pizza.”

Kent laughed. “We could have done pizza, you know.”

Alexei shrugged. “I’m want to make it nice.”

Kent wasn’t sure how the hell to read that, so he decided he just wouldn’t.

***

Dinner went as any dinner might go with kids. Messy, an angry three year old refusing to eat anything but a little bit of sauce, and toasted garlic bread. Even with Kent’s wheedling, she only had a little, though she managed to get sauce just about everywhere.

“Is long bath for you,” Alexei said.

“I want Kent to do it,” Klara said, and attached herself to his leg.

Kent flushed. “Uh. I’m not…that’s probably like…not a good idea.”

“I will,” Nina said, giving a put-upon sigh as she detached her little sister.

Klara let out an inhuman wail until Kent said, “How about you can snuggle with me after? On the couch? I won’t go before you’re in bed.”

She gave him a pointed look, so full of heat he thought he might be set on fire, then she allowed herself to be led up the stairs. A minute later, Kent heard the bath running, and Alexei sighed.

“Nina do a lot…too much, I’m think. For little girl. I work so much, her mama gone so much. She is…being adult in small body.”

Kent remembered his own childhood. His mother working two jobs, and him coming home to take care of his sister, to put dinner on the table and somehow manage to find time to wash dishes and get his homework done in between making sure she didn’t feel how profoundly alone they were.

But he didn’t hate it. He loved his mother more than life itself, and the bond he had with his sister was stronger than most siblings. “She’ll be alright. Trust me,” Kent said.

Alexei stared, then nodded. “Come. We have talk like adults before Princess Sophia take over, make us all sing like cartoon.”

Kent laughed, but allowed Alexei to lead the way into the living room. The sofa, though ugly and brown, was soft, and it was a relief to put his leg up a little bit on the table. Alexei was watching him carefully, the way he used both hands to lift it and adjust it.

“Was bad injury. I was…watching that game.”

Kent swallowed against the tightness in his throat. It was still so new, and he knew he hadn’t entirely processed the fact that he was out. Retired. That there was no going back. But for some reason, when Alexei said it, it didn’t feel so shitty.

“I uh. I mean I think we all kinda know there’s a chance we’re gonna get knocked down and not get back up again. I don’t think anyone walks into hockey without that hanging over their heads.”

Alexei nodded. “Is…scary, when girls are born. Before I’m think…there are worse ways to go. Then they come and I’m think, what if I leave them alone? No parent? So I play more careful.”

Kent bit his lip and wondered what that might have felt like, because for all the kid bonding he’d been doing, he still wasn’t a dad. And maybe it was easier to just play with them and hand them back, because for all that Kent had done miles of work on himself, he wasn’t sure he’d be any good to a kid.

“Yeah man. I mean I don’t know what that’s like but…” He trailed off and shrugged.

Alexei watched him for a moment. “You never want family? Kids?”

And shit, he had sort of expected the question, but he still felt blindsided by it. Enough he had to blink heat out of his eyes. “Uh. I did? I do, I mean. No one I’ve been with thinks I’d be any good at it though so like…maybe they’re on to something.”

“Maybe they not know you. Not want to know you. Is why things don’t work out.”

Kent wanted to argue, or maybe agree—he didn’t really know—but the girls came tearing back down the stairs, and his lap was suddenly full of Klara who was wrapped up in a pink bunny onesie that covered her feet, and had paw gloves for hands.

It was possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and it felt warm and right when she curled up against his chest and fell asleep halfway through The Little Mermaid.

“Uh,” Kent said quietly as the credits rolled. “I can like…put her down if you want?”

Alexei nodded, and eased Nina up, who was wavering on her own feet. Together, the four of them headed up the stairs, and Kent did everything in his power to ignore how domestic it felt. He pushed down, into tiny boxes, how much he wanted this, and pasted on a smile as Alexei led the way into Klara’s room.

It was everything and nothing Kent expected from the kid. Unicorns, and super heroes, live plants, and a sea of stuffed animals on her bed. Alexei shifted some to make room, and Kent eased the small girl into the bed, tucking the covers up.

She let out a noise of protest, but jammed her thumb into her mouth, curled up on her side, and was out again in seconds.

“Seriously,” Kent said as he followed Alexei out, “if adults could sleep like that, it would probably bring world peace.”

Alexei chuckled as they headed back downstairs, and back to the sofa. “I’m not sleeping since before Nina was born. She was very loud baby, then Klara comes and I’m forget how.”

Kent shook his head and wondered what the fuck was wrong with him that he wanted it so badly. His therapist would probably chalk it up to some issue with his childhood, something about feeling abandoned, or wanting to give a life he never had to kids.

I mean, he wasn’t an idiot. But he’d spent a lot of years only worrying about himself and Kit, and it was a comfortable life. Part of him assumed the only reason he’d been feeling so shitty was because James had implied he hadn’t been good enough.

But it felt more raw than that. More real.

“You okay?”

Alexei’s voice broke through Kent’s train of thought, and he blinked. “Oh uh. Yeah. Just…” He sighed and figured what the hell. If anything, Alexei might understand where he was coming from. “Did you always want to be a dad?”

Alexei shrugged. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Was not really…decision for me. She is getting pregnant and then we think, okay we make this work. By the time Klara comes, I’m already papa so is not so bad.”

“Do you regret it?” Kent asked.

Alexei shrugged. “Never regret babies. Sometime feel…lonely.” He sighed. “Is not easy…hockey and parenting. No time for things. Dates. Have date, come here and they are not…” He shrugged, his brow furrowed like he was searching for a word. “They are not expect kids. They want fit hockey player, like they see on TV. Big muscles, easy life. Not ponies and mac and cheeses.”

Kent let out a small laugh and leant his head back against the cushions. “I kind of get that? I mean, not…obviously not the kids thing. But so many assholes come home with me because they think I’m some massive player. Like I’m just gonna drop trou because I invited them in for a drink. Then they realise I’m looking for something more and they bail. Sucks.”

“Sucks,” Alexei echoed with a tiny grin.

Kent rubbed a hand down his face with another sigh. “I always wanted kids. I was with this guy for a long time. First real relationship after Jack. And fuck, you know, I seriously loved him and we were doing pretty well but every time I brought up the idea of kids he got weird on me. Said it wasn’t a good idea whatever. Then like, he pops up on Instagram all fucking married and his wife just had a baby…” Kent grabbed his phone and pulled up the photo, feeling like maybe he wanted someone besides just Jack to validate how shitty it felt.

Alexei frowned at the photo. “You date Barnes from Islanders?”

Kent blushed. “Well to be fair he was with the Sharks when we first hooked up. And yeah. I did.”

Alexei shook his head. “He is bad player, and bad boyfriend, too.”

Kent’s laugh was a little hollow, a little bitter. “I guess. I mean, maybe he was right, you know? My childhood was pretty fucked and I can’t imagine I’d be any good to a kid.”

Alexei looked almost personally offended when his gaze snapped to Kent. “Kent you good. Have bad childhood doesn’t mean…not always mean,” he corrected, “that you not learn from it. Give kids more than you had.”

Kent swallowed thickly. “I know. It’s just hard not to worry.”

Alexei shifted closer, then reached out slowly, allowing Kent time to pull away—though he couldn’t imagine doing it. His large fingers closed round Kent’s, and he squeezed. “I’m not always have good childhood. Mama who work hard, many brothers and sisters, but papa who not there and when he is…very angry. Mean.” Alexei sighed. “I’m not allowed to love people I want. So I leave, come to States, come to NHL, and it still not easy. But I give my girls papa I not have and they are happy.” His thumb rubbed slow circles over Kent’s palm and Kent’s head went a little floaty from the sensation. “My girls like you. I like you. I think you make good papa one day too.”

Kent allowed himself a smile, a tiny laugh. “Yeah. Just need to find someone willing to love me enough for it. Which I think we both know is easier said than done.”

“Kent,” Alexei breathed in response, but in the moment, didn’t say anything more.

***

By the end of the following week, Kent retained his shadow in the form of the three year old who wouldn’t skate if Kent wasn’t skating, and still threw small fits when Alexei came to pick her up. He had a few more dinners with the Mashkovs, even at one point helping Nina with her maths homework since he’d always excelled in the subject.

Alexei, who watched with an impressed grin, chirped Kent over it later after the girls were asleep. “I’m think you get into wrong job. Should be teaching.”

Kent rolled his eyes. “Dude, you and I both know I’d make the worst teacher.”

Alexei shook his head. “Good teacher. All the students have big crush on cute professor.”

Kent’s cheeks went hot. “You think I’m cute?”

He expected Alexei to take it back, or pretend to be offended or joking, but the giant Russian merely shrugged. “I’m see what others see. Good looking. Cute freckles.” He reached out, swiping a finger across the bridge of Kent’s nose, which made him blush harder. “You be hot teacher.”

“Those were always the worst teachers,” Kent said, not sure what else to say.

Alexei laughed. “You change them. You not play hockey, why not do that? Zimmboni like college. Maybe is good for you too?”

Kent laughed. “Dude like…he was twenty one when he started. I’m pushing thirty. I’d be that weird old man in all the freshman classes surrounded by all the eighteen year olds. It would be weird.”

“Not weird,” Alexei said. “And you can take class online too. Just think about it.”

Kent was startled by the fact that the idea had actual appeal. He’d taken a few online courses during summers, but only because he enjoyed it. The idea of making something out of it was vaguely terrifying. It was like admitting he was moving on from hockey and settling into a permanent life beyond what he’d set out for himself.

And that was…

He was distracted when a warm hand fell on his thigh, and he looked up into soft brown eyes. “I say something wrong?”

Kent shook his head. “I guess I just never thought about it. I mean, I always thought I was pretty fucking useless outside of hockey, you know? I barely went to high school, got drafted at eighteen and like…” He sighed and shrugged. “I guess it’s real. The fact that I’m out. And that I might have a new life.”

“Not always so bad, even if scary.”

Kent found himself leaning into Alexei, his cheek touching his shoulder, and when Alexei nuzzled in closer, Kent felt a rush up his spine. “What um.” He swallowed. “What are we doing, Tater? Is this like…a date or…?”

“Is closest I can come,” Alexei said, not looking at Kent, though he pressed against him a little more firmly. “Have girls, can’t do things most people can do. But I’m think is okay? You like girls. You like it here. Even if we always have just spaghetti.”

Kent laughed a little wetly and shook his head. “Wrong. First of all, I fucking love the girls. And second of all, I think if you don’t make something other than spaghetti, Klara is going to literally murder you in your sleep. And I kind of like having you around.”

Alexei turned then, reaching over, cupping Kent’s cheek with his massive hand. “You take care of girls if I’m murder, yes?”

“Yeah man, you bet,” Kent said, his body humming with anticipation, and want, and other things he didn’t want to put a name to. Not yet, anyway. “Uh. For the record if this is a date, I’m totally in.”

“Good,” Alexei whispered, then leant in. “I’m kiss you now? Since it fourth date?”

Kent laughed again and nodded against the massive palm. “Yeah. You’d fucking better kiss me. I’ve waited a long time.”

“Me too,” Alexei murmured, and then he did. Their lips met and it was soft and sweet, no chance of getting carried away and caught by small, curious eyes. But it was everything Kent had wanted and hadn’t realised until this moment. His fingers closed in Alexei’s shirt, and when they broke apart, they nuzzled their noses together.

“So you think they have some decent online classes here in Providence?”

Kent felt Alexei’s mouth stretch into a huge grin against his cheek. “I’m think so. But you not miss Vegas?”

Kent pressed several, soft kisses against Alexei’s cheek, then let himself be gathered up against the man into a possessive embrace. “The only thing I’ve got left there is Kit, and she might hate me for the plane ride, but she’ll get over it. Especially if you let the girls come love on her.”

Alexei nodded, brushing his fingers through Kent’s hair. “Is deal. And maybe before you go we ask Zimmboni and Bitty to babysit. Have real date. And nice night.”

Kent grinned. “Hell yeah. They owe me anyway.”

Alexei kissed him again. Then again. And one more time.

***

**Epilogue**

 

Kent strolled through the door, letting his keys drop from his hands about five seconds before he was pelted by two smaller bodies. The taller of the two, brown curls and bright eyes, smiled up at him. “You’re late!”

Kent put his hands up in defence. “Sorry! There was a giant dragon who tried to steal a car and caused a huge traffic jam.”

“Daddy,” groaned the littlest one, her bright blue eyes and tiny scowl set beneath her blonde ponytail fixed on him.

Kent laughed, sweeping her into his arms. “What? I’m serious. It almost ate my car.”

“Klara,” the little one said, “was a dragon?”

Klara rolled her eyes. “No. Daddy’s just a weird-o.”

“I take offense to that,” Kent said with a huff.

Klara laughed. “Yeah well you teach maths so like how are we supposed to trust you?”

Kent bounced the three year old on his hip. “And you, Miss Anya, did you have a good day? Did you see any dragons?”

She shook her head, her eyes wide and serious. “No, pea-cos I was wiff Bitty.”

“Oh, so you got pie then?” Kent asked. “Did you bring me any?”

“Papa eated it,” Anya said, and then squealed as Kent tickled her until she squirmed out of his arms and ran off with a yell.

Kent smiled, turning to Klara. “Where’s your sister?”

“On a date,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Uhg.” Kent sank into the chair and put his hand over his face. “I cannot believe your papa signed off on that. She’s only nine.”

Klara rolled her eyes. “That’s weird, too. She’s driving, she can date. I’m gonna drive, but I’m never gonna date.”

“Whatever makes you happy, princess,” Kent said, and yanked her into a hug. “If you could just hit pause on growing up so fast though, it would make me happy. I miss the pissy little three year old who used to make me carry her around the rink.”

Klara rolled her eyes, but gave him a fond smile. “My parents are nerds. Anyway I’m gonna go do homework. Papa already texted, he’s home in like five.”

Just as she ambled off, Kent heard the crunch of gravel on the driveway, and his entire body went into anticipation mode. He didn’t relax until wide, warm arms came round his waist, a soft mouth pressing kisses to his neck.

“You have good day?”

Kent shrugged. “Usual shit. Got dragged into a department meeting where they wanted to talk about more budget cuts. Luckily my department won’t suffer much since we’re already pretty fucking skeletal as it is. But they’re going to cut more art and music which is fucked.”

Alexei groaned. “Poor kids.”

“Tell me about it.” Kent turned his head, accepting the kiss Alexei planted on his lip, and he curled his fingers round Alexei’s, grinning at the bite of metal from his ring, against the side of his finger. “How was your day?”

“Good. Good rookies this year. I’m think maybe good cup year.”

Kent laughed. “I hope so since you’re retiring. Though you have one more than me now so like…I can’t root too hard.”

“My cup is your cup,” Alexei said, kissing him over and over against the side of his neck. “You work hard, I work hard. We share.”

Kent rolled his eyes, but he appreciated the sting of missing out on hockey was so much less. There was jealousy at times, but he could still skate with his girls and Alexei whenever they wanted to, and he was happy at his job. He’d been teaching three years now, and he hadn’t realised he could feel at home somewhere that wasn’t a hockey rink.

But now he had this. First Alexei who brought Nina and Klara. Then Anya and he felt like everything he’d ever been missing was his.

His first family post after their wedding was him and Alexei with Nina and Klara between them, and the caption, **When it’s family, it’s family** and he laughed until he cried when James was the first to hit like. He wasn’t angry anymore. He didn’t feel unloved, or unworthy, or slighted.

How could he, when he had this to come home to.

His eyes started to drift closed as Alexei kissed along his jaw, and snapped open at the sound of something crashing in the other room, and a small voice calling, “Daddyyyyyy.”

Kent snorted a laugh, “Nose goes!” and poked his nose a fraction ahead of Alexei.

The taller man groaned. “Fine, but you get dishes tonight, little rat.”

Kent threw his head back and laughed, dragging Alexei into a kiss before letting him go. He smiled at the counter top as he heard Alexei’s voice calming their youngest down, and laughed when Kit went hurtling through the kitchen to her hiding spot in their empty cabinet near the stove.

It was home.

It was his life.

And it was perfect.


End file.
